


Loveless

by mm8



Category: Loveless, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Loveless Fusion, Bisexuality, Classism, HRBB14, I'm Sorry Tolkien, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Slow Build, Sorry Not Sorry, Virginity, hobbit reverse big bang 2014, ignores some Tolkien canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-03-01 00:10:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2752307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mm8/pseuds/mm8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To be branded with a name is a blessing, a sign that somewhere out in the world bound in blood and chains stronger than that of the purest mithril. A proof of promised companionship and surety of belonging.</p><p>For Thorin Oakenshield, living nearly two centuries without a Fighter has hardened his heart from ever finding his fated partner – after all, he needs no one to fight his battles for him. He just never expected to meet him on high-risk high-gain quest, still with his ears and tail like an untested youth, completely unsuited for fighting and contrary from head to toe.</p><p>On his part, Bilbo is far from impressed by the appearance of his irascible, rude Sacrifice on his doorstep, already ear- and tailless (the nerve!). The pull of a Sacrifice to a Fighter is a siren call, they say, completely consuming, and many heads have been shaken over pairs battling over the any small slight. To Bilbo, his Sacrifice is like a wailing siren, one he’d like to thump until it stopped complaining his uselessness.</p><p>This is going to take some work.</p><hr/><p>Original summary by coww. Updates on Tuesdays</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loveless

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first submission for HRBB14. As you can tell it is a Loveless AU based upon the lovely art by coww. 
> 
> My other fic (prostitute!Thorin AU) for HRBB14 will be posted on Dec 16th. 
> 
> Important Links  
> [Coww's rough draft masterpost](http://shamingcows.tumblr.com/post/94063098833/here-is-the-introduction-and-masterpost-to-my)  
> [What is Loveless by Coww](http://shamingcows.tumblr.com/post/94062715966/loveless-verse-primer)  
> [My Loveless Playlist](http://open.spotify.com/user/meganmoffat8/playlist/0LhttP5gRw7HwQI52BvnJE)  
> Final Art Link COMING SOON  
> Master Post Link COMING SOON
> 
>  
> 
> There's a lot of people I'd like to thank: [coww](http://shamingcows.tumblr.com) (without your beautiful art this fic would not be here, the amazing summary that drew me in & that I had to use, and for being there when I had any questions), Panda & Ewe (for running the fest) and nicnac918 (for beta-ing this at the last second even though we literally just became friends. You are someone after my own heart).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Company of Thorin Oakenshield gathers, but quickly discovers a hitch in their carefully thought-out plan.

The Green Dragon was lively tonight; packed with all kinds of travelers from all walks of life. Most had probably arrived for the upcoming ale festival in Bree. No one paid any mind to thirteen anxious dwarves sitting at a long table, all with their hoods up and huddled close together like they were conspiring.

"He's late," one complained. "Maybe he doesn't mean to show at all."

"Did he know there was to be a time?"

"We should just go on ahead. Don't need no wizard anyway."

"What does our king think?" a reasonable voice asked above all the rest.

Everyone turned to face their leader who sat at one end of the table, his face completely hidden. Only his only pipe stuck out from his hood to indicate that a person was indeed there. "We wait," a low voice behind the hood said. "He will be here. _Tharkûn_ will come. Be patient. Eat. Drink. We won't have many opportunities to rest like this on the journey."

One by one the members of the company went back to their own business. Thorin watched them from his prime seat, facing everyone and in perfect view of the door. It was important for a leader to know and understand the inner-workings of his company. 

After the leader's little speech, three volunteers got up and approached the bar. It was rather funny to watch as anyone who might have been in their way hastened to move to the sides of the room. They thinned themselves against the wall, bumping into tables or other customers as three odd dwarves breezed past. 

The scribe who had been commissioned for their journey was busy at work, observing his surroundings and sketching them into his leather journal. He was sandwiched between his two older brothers, the thief and the one obsessed with tea. His two brothers were glaring menacingly at the Dwalin who sat across from them. In fact, the one with reddish-brown hair was sharpening his knife in Dwalin's direction. 

When he wasn't staring down the two elder Ri brothers or eyeing the young scribe with hunger, Dwalin was conversing with his elder brother— about what Thorin was unable to tell as they kept to whispers, turning away from the rest of the company when they spoke. Of course, Dwalin was on alert as well. He wore his knuckle dusters and twin axes on his back and his eyes would periodically dart around the inn and to the door, looking for any threats to his king. Thorin's dear cousin was quite the multi-tasker. 

Thorin's other cousins, Oin and Gloin were content amongst themselves. They each had a bowl of stew in front of them with a decent portion of bread to dip it in. Occasionally, Gloin would say something to his brother, who would adjust to ear trumpet or scream something like, "What? This tastes like copper?" In turn, Gloin would yell, "No, _lobster_! Lobster!" Then the brothers bickered how it couldn't be lobster since they were nowhere near places like Dale or Langstrand where seafood was a-plenty. 

His dear nephews on the other hand, were neither subtle nor discreet. Both were trying to chat up anyone who walked past where they sat. Kili's tail was pointed upward and swished lightly, catching some of the patrons and wait staff off-guard as they passed. The young prince wouldn't apologize either. He would give the lass a flirtatious grin or wink and say some utterly stupid pick-up line.

"Kili," the blond grasped hold of his brother's arm after a particularly perturbed hobbit left their line of vision. "That hobbit was… was a _male_."

The younger prince shrugged noncommittally, "So? Does it matter?" Despite the casual appearance that Kili was trying to put on, his tail betrayed him. The dark brown furred tail was waving back and forth behind him out of fear. 

Fili eased his grip; he stroked his Fighter's arm with his thumb. "No, no of course not." He made sure that his eyes met brother's as he spoke. "I just never knew you felt that way. That you liked _both_. It doesn't change a thing." They gently bumped foreheads, a smile on both of their faces. 

A hard pang went through Thorin's chest as he witnessed the tender moment between his nephews, and indeed saw over all of the interactions of his company. The bond between Fighter and Sacrifice ran deep, deeper than blood. It consumed your soul and felt like fire in your veins. The tie between Fighter and Sacrifice was unbreakable. _Supposed_ to be unbreakable. Thorin was living proof of that. 

"Thorin," Dwalin snipped, placing his hand on his cousin's shoulder. "He's arrived."

All of the dwarves at the table, stood as the wizard approached, and those not present rushed back over sensing something important was happening. Thorin heard the whispers among his brethren.

"That's _Tharkûn_?"

"I thought he'd be more—"

"Majestic? Well put together?"

"Aye," a few nodded.

"Hush! Have more respect!"

"I still say we don't need 'im."

The Grey Wizard smiled warmly and bowed to the group as a whole. "It's finally nice to meet you all, company of Thorin Oakenshield," his voice was low, but commanding. He sat down at the end of the long table opposite Thorin. "Shall introductions be made?"

No one spoke for a moment. Everyone looked at each other, wondering who should go first. Finally, with a heavy sighs, Balin and Dori stood together. 

"I am Balin, son of Fundin," he bowed and gestured to Dori, who bowed in turn. "And this is my Fighter, Dori, son of Ria."

"We are Bloodless," they announced simultaneously.

And it continued on like that. Gandalf took in each pair one at a time. Until the time came and there was only their leader left. Thorin stood, clearing his throat. "Thorin, son of Thrain, son or Thror. Beloved. At your service." He quickly sat back down. He didn't want to see any of the disgusted looks on his allies' faces. He drank down the rest of his pint of ale.

"Good, good. Now that is all out of the way, shall we begin?" the wizard tapped his chin. "Shall I be the bearer of bad news? I see that there are only thirteen in your party, Master Oakenshield."

The dwarves exchanged looks of confusion. The scribe paused from transcribing, the ink bleeding on the parchment. Kili counted everyone on his fingers. "Ah I don't want to insult your mathematic skills—"

"How are we thirteen?" Gloin interrupted loudly. "There's fourteen at this table, aren't there?"

The wizard let out a short laugh. "Ah, I see the confusion. No, no, I am not your fourteenth member."

Instantly the company was in an uproar. Some called for an end of their quest right there. Nori voiced his repeated opinion that they didn't need a wizard at all.

Gandalf held up his hands for peace. "Calm yourselves! I am here to merely guide you on your journey. I will not be available at all times. There are other places in Middle Earth that need me more. Besides, I am neither a Fighter nor a Sacrifice; I'm afraid I would be of little use to you. I informed Master Oakenshield all of this when we met many months ago. And that he needed to find an _even_ number of pairs for his quest."

All eyes were glued to Thorin. The king grimaced, his eyes fueled with fire. His fingernails dug into the wood tabletop. "We have all the pairs we need," he challenged.

"We do?" Gandalf asked, amused. "Because I count only six pairs and a spare Sacrifice, don't you?"

The two young princes and the Fundin brothers jumped to their feet. Dwalin was flexing his muscles, and Fili's hand hovered over heart, where Thorin knew, his eldest nephew hid a dagger in the lining of his tunic. 

"Are you threatening our king?" Dwalin asked unkindly.

"Peace," Gandalf soothed. He waited until everyone was sitting once more before he continued. "I am stating a fact. When I met Master Oakenshield previously, I was quite specific to say that in order for this quest to succeed it needed complete pairs."

Thorin straightened his posture and lifted his chin high. "I am strong enough for both."

Gandalf did not seem convinced. "You know as well as I do that a Fighter without his Sacrifice is only fights at half strength. And you are no Fighter—"

The king's nostrils flared. "I have managed just _fine_ for the last one-hundred and forty years _without_ a Fighter," Thorin protested. "Any of my kin can attest to this." 

"That might be so," the Grey Wizard countered, leaning forward on his elbows. "But for this quest, you will need a Fighter. Trust me, Thorin. Like you did before."

Thorin chewed on his lip. He didn't like it. Not at all. He didn't need a Fighter. He fought just as well as any other pair. If he was forced to be paired with someone else, they might have to provoke a bond. The king shivered. He didn't want to do that to anyone. 

"You seem to be forgetting," Balin addressed. "That Thorin and this Fighter will not have the same name. This will significantly lessen their power as a unit."

Thorin clenched his jaw and stared straight at Gandalf. Yes, he wanted an answer for this too. 

"I have a simple solution around this. The Fighter I have in mind lives in the Shire. And he is a blank."

There was a collective gasp from the company. 

"P--pardon me by saying so, Gandalf," Ori stuttered, twirling his quill between his fingers. "But of with little resources we have on Hobbits, it is believed that they do not have any Fighters. Are the sources incorrect?"

The widest grin spread across the wizard's face. "No, the sources are not."

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr-[mm8fic](http://mm8fic.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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